


frequencies

by Anonymous



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, Dreams, Falling In Love, First Meetings, M/M, Modern Era, One Shot, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 10:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14331018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Spot doesn't know what his dreams are trying to tell him





	frequencies

There was yelling all around him. 

Rising in volume, joyous and strong, it rang in Spot’s ears, a need to join in growing by the second. Then, the first scream came, sending shivers down Spot’s spine. The void came into focus and Spot froze at the scene. Boys were running everywhere, the police showing no mercy as friends were dragged apart, some beaten senseless. 

Spot had to do something, but no matter how much he forced his body to move, it remained frozen where he stood. When he opened his mouth, no words came out. Not that it really mattered. It would be lost amongst the chaos anyway.

The crowd parted for just a moment then and Spot saw him. 

_Race_ , his mind screamed, clawing and desperate to reach out. He didn’t know why he knew the name or why he recognized the face. None of this made sense and Spot fought against the restraints of his mind. Again, nothing happened, leaving Spot to simply watch Race being dragged away. Spot tried to call again, his body shooting up as he yelled out Race’s name.

Gasping for breath, Spot reeled at his surroundings, familiar and distant all at once. Posters hung on the wall, lightened only by the stray stream of the moon shining into his room. When he glanced at his bedside table, Spot saw his phone, confirming where he was. Letting out a shuddered breath, he groaned and slammed a fist down onto his pillow.

For days, he’d been having the same dream. A place in the past, names he knew, but faces he didn’t recognize. His brain was a fractured mess and there was no explanation. He didn’t even dare think about telling someone else for fear of their judgement. At a complete loss, Spot pressed his palms against his eyes, willing away the chill that pricked at his skin. He was losing his mind trying to figure out what all this meant. Race was another mystery in this puzzle, a past that presented itself to Spot as if he had lived and breathed it all before.

Spot veered on the edge of giving up and he fell back onto his bed, glaring at the ceiling. He wanted to scream, but with the chance of waking his mother, he retreated back into pushing away unwanted thoughts. 

Summoning all his strength, Spot forced his eyes to stay open until exhaustion brought him into a dreamless state, Race’s face the last thing on Spot’s mind.

~

Spot began to accept his fate after a month had passed. The dreams kept sweeping in, churning his emotions as he longed for something he would never have. 

While the scenery would change, one person remained, often greeting him as he entered his dreams. Sometimes, Spot even had the chance to talk, but the words didn’t feel like his own, the accent a bittersweet taste. 

When the dreams did open into the world around him, it seemed like the Brooklyn he had grown up in. He recognized some streets and older buildings, but his clothing, the actions, were not like him. At least, he didn’t think so. Selling newspapers, rallying for a cause, maybe in some future Spot could see himself doing one or the other. For now, he was still stuck in school, just trying to graduate. 

He wondered if maybe it was his mind telling him to do something, but that still didn’t explain Race. A crooked grin, the cigar hanging from his mouth, it made Spot laugh while carving a Race-shaped hole into his heart. Often, Spot found himself saying Race’s name under his breath as if he hoped he would jump out of the nearest alley, claiming his existence.

It never did happen. 

Spot tried to push the thoughts of Race away. He hated how Race felt like home, a friend like no other, as well as something more. 

His hatred only lasted so long until the dreams dragged him back to Race and he fell into the other boy’s arms. 

Sighing, Spot curled under his blankets as he tried to stay awake, but didn’t dare let the tears fall from his eyes. Whatever this was, it was a cruel trick and he hoped he would be able to control his emotions with time.

~

“Hiya, Spot.”

Spot turned his gaze from the water and turned, his face jumping ahead into the grin. Race had one to match, his hands shoved in his pockets as he approached Spot’s place on the dock. He stopped just before Spot, his posture shifting and tight.

“What brings you to the pier?” Spot asked, the words still foreign on his tongue. 

He knew what he was going to say next, but Spot wanted to direct this conversation and not this other version of him holding onto the reins. 

“Can’t I visit a Brooklyn pal?” Race joked, shuffling closer to Spot. 

“Yeah, but you’re usually at Sheepshead.” Spot could feel himself gain control of this body with each passing word, his hand reaching out to grip onto Race’s vest.

Race chuckled, closing the gap between them, a hand hovering before Spot’s waist. “Really? Out here in the open?”

“Don’t care,” Spot shook his head. “It’s just this once, right?”

Race was slow to nod, but it was enough and Spot leaned in, his lips brushing against Race’s. He knew the repercussions if anyone caught them, his fear rising just as much as his anticipation. He had to remind himself this was all a dream, closing his eyes as he and Race embraced. 

It was a quiet moment with the waves lapping at the pier, a boat horn sounding in the distant sunset. Spot willed this to last as long as he could, a genuine happiness growing in him as Race smiled into the kiss. 

Race pulled away first, Spot frowning a little, until the hand on his face made up for the end of their kiss. 

“God, I wish you were real,” Race whispered, fingers dancing lightly across Spot’s cheek.

Spot turned his face into Race’s palm, his heart sinking with each second. Soon, he would wake up and Race would be gone again. 

“I wish too,” Spot mumbled as he reached out again. 

This time, his hands hit nothing and he opened his eyes to his bedroom. 

Swearing, Spot threw a pillow across the room before burying his face into his sheets, his sobs consuming him until dawn poured into his room. 

~

Summer had come and gone, but the dreams remained. Spot didn’t know how he was going to balance schoolwork with his tumultuous mind, already easily upset by the smallest things. Even his friends wondered why he had been so distant over the break, but Spot didn’t know what to say. He’d laugh and joke it off, despite how desperately he wanted to scream about Race. 

Spot did his best to keep on a face for his friends during the first few days of class and they seemed satisfied enough, which left Spot more alone than ever. He just wanted to have some peace of mind, finding solace during class time as he stared out the window and ignoring whatever lectures the teachers had for the day. 

By third period, Spot was numb at best, his gaze only pulling from the window when the door to the classroom opened. The assistant that entered announced the arrival of a new student and ushered them into the room as she apologized for taking so long with the tour. 

Spot’s heart jumped into his throat, his eyes going wide for just a moment before he struggled to pull his emotions back in. 

It couldn’t be Race and yet there he was, bright and confident as if he was used to being the new kid. Spot could only think of how different Race looked without his usual cap and vest, then blushing at his sudden eagerness. For all he knew, this guy just happened to look like Race. Spot’s dreams were his own and he deflated his spirit as a name passed over his ears. 

Turning his attention to the teacher, Spot froze as he saw a hand pointed at him and the new student approaching the empty desk next to Spot’s. Daring himself to make eye contact, goosebumps formed on his skin as he received an equally curious stare. No one paid them any mind and the teacher started the movie again as the student made himself at home. 

“Anthony Higgins,” he introduced, holding out his hand. “But my friends call me Race.”

Something hot pricked at the back of Spot’s eyes and he took a moment to let out a shuddered breath before taking the hand offered to him. 

“Sean Conlon. People know me better as Spot.”

Race’s hand squeezed Spot’s and their eyes remained on each other, a silent message exchanged to confirm their suspicions. 

Everything Spot had thought was impossible, a disaster waiting to happen, had fallen in front of him and he didn’t know what to do first. Realizing their hands were still holding onto each other, Spot pulled away, watching out of the corner of his eye as Race readjusted in his seat. 

Class couldn’t be over soon enough and by the time the bell rang, Spot wanted to run. Instead, he waited as Race collected his things, the two walking out of the room together with a tensioned silence hanging between them.

“What do you have next?” Spot asked in the hallway, questions waiting to burst from him. 

“Study hall. You?”

Spot nodded, his mind two steps ahead as he grabbed Race’s wrist, leading him in the opposite direction of the classrooms. There was no protest from Race and Spot held back his grin as he led them outside to a secluded part of the school grounds. He trusted Race, dropping his wrist while he continued to lead. He had so much to say, but he wanted it to be perfect. 

That is, until two arms wrapped around him from behind, Spot almost dropping his things as his heart jumped. 

“God, I thought I was going crazy,” Race mumbled into Spot’s back. “All those dreams, seeing you, I couldn’t figure it out.”

Spot bit on his lip and tossed his things to the ground before turning in Race’s arms and returning the embrace. Race’s hold was instantly relaxing, a yearn Spot didn’t know he had as the two buried their faces in each other’s necks. 

“I know we just met, but I feel like I’ve known you all my life,” Race whispered, hugging Spot closer.

“I mean, technically we’ve been seeing each other for the past two months,” Spot mumbled into Race’s neck, smiling when Race laughed. 

Pulling back, the two simply stared at each other, conversations paused as they held onto what had been an intangible mess for so long. 

“Well, maybe it’s time you came over and met the folks,” Race joked, fingers lightly running along Spot’s back. 

“So soon? Aren’t we supposed to make it official first?” Spot kept a sly grin on his face, his heart near bursting with the happiness he felt. 

Race’s eyebrows raised up as he nodded in agreement and it was then Spot couldn’t take it anymore. Pressing his lips onto Race’s, it was just as he imagined, instantly regretting all the times he had tried to forget about Race.

“Now look who’s talking about moving fast,” Race teased against Spot’s lips and Spot shoved him lightly, making Race laugh again. “All right, all right, we’ve been together two months, I get it.”

With a grin, Spot shook his head as he stepped away, his hands still on Race’s arms. “Probably should get back to class. Wouldn’t want you suspended on your first day here.”

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Race sighed as the two helped each other collect their things. 

Walking back towards the school, Spot held tight onto Race’s hand as Race started the conversation again, this time about one of Spot’s favorite books. 

Fate, if that was Spot was to call it that, had brought them together in a way he had never imagined. Maybe now the dreams would stop, but even if they didn’t, Spot had someone to share them with as they lived this life together from here on out.

**Author's Note:**

> uuuuuh i know this could've been a longer thing but *shrug*
> 
> [Tingle](http://safarikalamari.tumblr.com)


End file.
